


Flowers and Spray Paint

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Everyone being a little shit, Fluff, Keith (Voltron) Being a Little Shit, Lance (Voltron) Being a Little Shit, Light Angst, M/M, Matt Holt is mentioned, Minor Matt Holt/Shiro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-04-17 04:26:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14180574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Lance, a worker at a local florist shop in Arizona meets a guest with an unusual request, but not just to do with flowers.I dunno I'm bad at summaries.Inspired by a tumblr prompt. And maybe a little bit by Paper Towns.





	1. One

The sound of yelling rang in Lance's ears as he waited at the counter of the flower shop. Pidge probably did something wrong again, he thought to himself. He sighed as he heard the girl walk up behind him and lean on the counter, facing backwards. 

"What did you do this time?" Lance asked, not batting an eye. 

"Apparently daylilies are perennials," Pidge sighed. "I keep telling him, flowers aren't my area! _Then why do you work in a flower shop?_ " Pidge imitated her boss. "Well, then why don't you fire me?!" 

"Yeah, Shiro's not gonna fire you," Lance seemed unimpressed. 

"Ya know why?" Pidge smirked. 

"Because he's screwing your brother?" Lance asked. 

"Exactly!" Pidge sighed, before staying silent for a second, and then winced. "Maybe that isn't a good thing now that I think about it. That is not an image I want in my head." She turned as a stranger walked in the door. 

The stranger was shorter than Lance but taller than Pidge. Inky black bangs hung down over deep purple eyes. He wore a black t-shirt and a leather jacket, as well as fashionably ripped and frayed jeans. The look on his face conveyed both confused and agitated emotions. 

Lance and Pidge exchanged glances. They were both thinking the same thing; 'wow'. 

The stranger walked up to the counter (very intensely, if I may add. This guy was mad.). The two standing behind were still gaping, however at this point it was mostly just Lance. 

He slammed what looked to be a $20 bill onto the counter, violet irises staring directly into Lance's blue ones. 

"How do you passive aggressively say 'fuck you' in flower?" His voice was filled with drive, determination, and anger. 

Pidge sighed, "Well, you'll need-" 

"No, no, no," Lance cut her off, trying to push her off towards the back of the shop. "You just said flowers weren't your area. Now, you go back and keep annoying Shiro." 

"Lan-"

"No, go annoy Shiro," Lance kept shoving his friend and co-worker away. "He'll love it I swear." Lance leaned in closer to Pidge to whisper something in her ear, making sure the stranger wouldn't hear. "Pidge, this guy's, like, hot. You're just gonna fuck it up. Now go tell Shiro he has stupid eyebrows again or something." 

Pidge finally gave in. She sighed as she walked to the back of the shop, soon to be unseen. 

Lance then turned back to the stranger and began to speak. 

"Well, there isn't one specific flower to say 'fuck you'," He said. "But you could have a bouquet of a few types of flowers." 

"Like what?" 

"Geraniums generally mean stupidity, so some of those," The taller boy gestured towards a bouquet of pink flowers. "And foxglove–" He turned to point at a few purple plants near the top of the shelves. "–means insincerity. Oh, and meadowsweet is a great flower to send a message of uselessness." The stranger nodded as Lance spoke. "If you wanna say," Lance switched into a high-pitched mocking voice to say, "You have disappointed me," He switched back to his normal tone of voice. "Yellow carnations are a good choice." 

The stranger nodded, before speaking for the third time, "Do you have anything that means loathing hatred?" 

Lance thought for a second, trying to think of a flower that could match what this beautiful stranger was asking for. 

"I think orange lilies could work," Lance pointed to the orange flowers on the middle shelf. The stranger nodded. "What do you think?" 

"I just want to say fuck you in flower..." He took a few steps forward, looking at the name tag of the boy behind the counter. "Lance." 

"Well I think the flowers I've listed for you would make a wonderful bouquet," He declared. "And full of loathing."

The stranger smirked, taking a step forward and leaning on the counter. 

"Perfect." 

"So just one bouquet, then?" Lance asked, slightly flustered, yet trying to keep his cool. 

"Actually, I'll need," the stranger counted on his fingers silently. "Six." 

"Six?" Lance questioned, exasperated. 

"Yeah, six." He took a step back. 

"Well, I'm not sure if we can get them for you now." Lance thought for a second. "How about Thursday?" 

"Thursday works." Lance felt like he had just set up a date with this guy. 

Lance pulled out a notepad from behind the counter and placed it on the counter as the stranger pulled off the twenty dollars he had put down earlier. "Just write down your name and number and we'll call you when we can get you your six bouquets of fuck you flowers." 

The stranger took the pen Lance had handed him and began to write. 

_Keith Kogane  
XXX-XXX-XXXX_

"Alright," Lance looked at what he had written. "Keith," So that's his name. "I'll give you a call." 

"Alright, thanks," A (very) small smile was beginning to form over Keith's lips. 

"If you have any questions," Lance pulled a business card for the shop from the holder and handed it to Keith. "Just call the shop, and we'll be happy to answer. Remember, my name's Lance."

"Thanks, Lance."

Keith turned on his heels and walked slowly out of the shop. Lance watched him all the way until he was out of view. He was taken by surprise when he heard a voice from behind him. 

"So, that's his name," it was Pidge. "Keith." She sighed. "Not really what I was expecting." 

Lance suddenly became defensive. "What do you mean?" 

"I mean I was expecting a cooler name," She thought for a second. "You know, like, Levi or something." 

"Levi?" Lance said. "Pidge this isn't Attack on Titan, calm your shit." The blue-eyed boy sighed. "Aren't you supposed to be annoying Shiro?"

"No, I'm pretty sure he's gonna throw a fucking vase or something at me soon," Pidge spat out without missing a beat. She put on a sarcastic. "Oh, by the way, good job. I really liked the addition of the term 'fuck you flowers'." 

"Shut up, I did better than you would've," Lance scoffed. He began to drift into his own thoughts. Why did this handsome stranger need six bouquets of flowers, and with that meaning, no less? Why did he seem so driven and focused, yet still deviant and unapologetic? 

Lance's mind began to drift away from questions, and more towards images. He thought about Keith's piercing violet eyes, about his mid-length (and kinda mullet-like) black hair. He thought about the expression on Keith's face when he walked in. He thought about the expression on his face when he walked out. He thought about the way Keith dressed, the way he walked, the way he talked. He thought about _Keith_.


	2. Two

The alarm clock was ringing. 

The ear-piercing beeping goes on for a while before Lance slams the alarm off. 

Lance let out a groan—he did not want to get out of bed, not that he ever did. He rolled, and quite literally, he rolled out of bed, taking the sheets with him into the ground. He huffed as he pulled himself up. Lance threw his sheets back on his bed, not even bothering to make his bed. 

Lance groggily dragged himself into the bathroom. He made a confused expression at the look of his hair in the mirror. It was so short, how did it get this messy? How was that even humanly possible? He deduced he didn't have time for a shower, he'd just have to go without washing his hair and try and fix it somehow. 

After struggling with his hair for a good 20 minutes, Lance gave up. He would just wear a hat today. His stomach growled and he sighed; he should probably get some breakfast. Lance began walking to his kitchen (very slowly, if I may add), nearly tripping on what seemed like a thousand things. He  
finally arrived in his kitchen and poured was seemed to be the world's slowest bowl of cereal. 

Lance set the now-empty cereal bowl in the sink before heading back to his bedroom. He sighed, staring at his closet, then glanced over at his phone, which began to ring. He read who was calling: Shiro. 

"Hello?" Lance said as soon as he picked up. 

"Hey, Lance. It's Shiro," Shiro answered from the other end of the line. "The last few of the flowers came in for Keith Kogane. You know, the ones with a very certain meaning." 

"Oh, yeah," Lance laughed, but without humour. 

"I'd just like for you to assemble the bouquets, as you were the one who spoke to him," Shiro said. "It's just that it's kind of a unique request." 

"Oh, alright," Lance answered. "Sure, I'll be there." 

"Perfect," Lance could practically feel Shiro becoming relived. "Just so you know, I'm having Pidge work the register so you won't have to worry." Lance was about to speak, but Shiro stopped him. "And yes, I know Pidge knows literally nothing about flowers, but she's the only person I could find that wasn't faking an illness to get out of working the register." 

Lance smiled at this. "Okay. I've gotta get ready, so I'll see you in a few." 

"Thank you, Lance." 

"No problem. Bye." 

"Bye." Lance hung up the phone and threw it back onto his bed, continuing to survey his closet. He knew he was probably going to see Keith again today, and though the two had already met, Lance still wanted to look as good as possible. He surveyed his closet. He couldn't wear anything too bold, he had to still look professional, but he wanted to make a statement. He eventually settled for a blue t-shirt, a grey pullover hoodie and a pair of dark blue skinny jeans, as well as a black hat that he hoped would hide his horrendous bedhead. 

Lance looked at himself in the mirror. He thought he looked good, but would Keith? He didn't know. He didn't really know anything about Keith. He just thought Keith looked pretty, that was all. He didn't know why he seemed to care so much. Lance must've had so many beautiful-looking people come into the shop before, but he had never really cared as much for them as he did for Keith. Maybe it was because he knew he'd be seeing Keith more than once, maybe because he found the meaning of Keith's bouquet interesting, or maybe it was just because he looked pretty. Lance didn't really know. 

The boy grabbed his cell phone and wallet before exiting his bedroom and walking towards the front door of his apartment. He slipped on his shoes and grabbed the keys to his car. His car wasn't anything special, it was an old, dark gray corolla that seemed to be about a millennial old and took half an hour to start up some days, but Lance didn't care. He loved that car. This morning, luckily, wasn't one of the mornings where his lovely Marissa (that's what he had named his car. He never really knew why he had named her that, he just knew his car needed a name) decided to start right away. Lance sped (well, not exactly sped, Marissa wasn't the fastest car out there) away, wanting to get to the flower shop as soon as possible. He drove, taking every shortcut he knew; he really wanted to get to work as soon as possible today. He pulled Marissa into the parking lot, driving behind to the employee parking behind the building, ad parked her there. He stared up at the sign at the front of the shop. 'Space Dad Florists', it was a stupid name, everyone agreed on it, but Matt, Pidge's older brother, had made Shiro do it. Pidge had hated him for it, but eventually, she found the humour at working at a place called 'Space Dad Florists'. 

When he arrived at the shop, he was greeted by Pidge and her usual sarcastic and sardonic comments, before being called to the back by a voice that sounded like Shiro. Shiro showed him the many flowers that were piled onto a table. 

"Those right there," He said as he gestured towards the multi-coloured pile of flowers. "Are the flowers for Keith. You're putting all the bouquets together," Lance smiled and took a step towards the table, Shiro stopping him with a hand on the front of his shoulder. "Before you call him." 

Lance deflated. "Fine." 

Lance walked so he was standing in front of the table. He loved flowers. He loved the way a personalized bouquet could just make someone's face light up. He loved the fact that the bouquets he was about to assemble would be a curse disguised as a blessing. Someone would think they're getting a nice bouquet of pretty flowers, but really, they were essentially getting flipped off in flower language. Only a true flower geek (like Lance) would understand the message they were being sent and Lance guessed that was very few people. Lance began to assemble the bouquets. He made sure they weren't exactly the same because he was pretty sure that Keith wasn't planning some kind of event with these 'fuck you' flowers. He added an extra foxglove here, one less meadowsweet there, keeping things original. 

In less than an hour, Lance was tying the last red ribbon on the final bouquet. He went for red because it could send one of three messages; passive-aggressive anger, love, or loathing hatred. He decided that Keith probably wanted to send two of those three messages. His face lit up with joy as he skipped up to the front of the shop to call Keith. His face dropped when he saw Pidge using the phone. She spotted him almost immediately. Pidge stuck her tongue out at the boy, who could almost be seen with smoke clouds coming out of his ears. 

Lance nearly fell over trying to grab the phone as Pidge set it down. 

"Lance, Jesus," Pidge called out as he rushed past her. "Calm down." 

"Pidge, it's Keith," Lance exclaimed, slightly angrily. "I can't calm down." 

"Oh god," Pidge facepalmed. "This isn't gonna turn into another one of your crushes that turns into you crying to me about it at 3 am, is it?" 

"NO!" Lance exclaimed faster than Pidge could comprehend. 

"Okay, now you really need to calm down," Pidge took a few steps back. "Turn off the mental caps lock key." 

Lance took a deep breath. "Alright, just hand me the paper with his number." Lance held out his hand and Pidge placed the paper into it. Lance type in the number. He held the phone up to his ear and heard it begin to ring. 

"Hello?" Lance's eyes widened when he heard Keith's voice. 

"Hey,' He took a deep breath, just concentrating on forming actual sentences. "It's Lance from Space Dad Florists. We've got your order ready for pickup." 

"Great," Keith remarked. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Is that okay?" 

"Fine by me," Lance said. "I guess I'll see you then." 

"Guess so," There was a moment of silence. "Bye." 

"Bye." Heart racing, Lance set down the phone. He sighed, taking a step back. "He's gonna be here in ten minutes." 

"You'd better get his flowers," Pidge suggested, but her tone was insincere. Lance, however, didn't notice and ran to the back of the shop, returning to the shop a moment later while struggling to hold six bouquets at once. "Um, Lance?"

"Hmm?" Lance called out from beneath the flowers. 

"If you can barely carry six bouquets, how do you expect him to?" Pidge inquired. "He's shorter than you. He has shorter arms." 

"Oh, god I never thought about that," Lance realized. "Shit, what if I have to help him get the flowers into his car? What if he doesn't even have a car? What kind of car would he have if he did have one?" 

"For the third fucking time in five minutes, calm down." Pidge sighed. "His car is probably better than that trash can you call a car." 

"Excuse me?" Lance exclaimed dramatically, throwing the flowers onto the counter. "Her name is Marissa and she is beautiful!" 

"Who's Marissa?" A voice said from in front of the two. Lance turned and was surprised to see Keith standing in front of him. 

"Lance's car," Pidge answered simply. 

"You named your car Marissa?" Keith question, a look of both fondness and surprise on his face. 

"Yes," Lance said quickly. "She's a great car, no matter what Pidge says."

"Alright..." Keith said, an airy tone in his voice. "I assume you've got my flowers. Well, not really assume, you did tell me you had them." 

"Right here," Lance gestured to the flowers he had dumped onto the counter in front of him. "Six bouquets of 'fuck you' flowers, made to order." 

Keith smiled. "Perfect." 

"Cash or credit?" Pidge chimed in. 

"Huh?" 

"Cash or credit?" Pidge repeated slightly slower. "You've gotta pay for those flowers, pretty boy." 

"Oh, right," Keith looked defeated. "How much would it be?" 

"Uhm..." Lance thought for a second, adding numbers in his head. "$223." Lance tried to avoid Keith's shocked gaze. "And 68 cents."

"Well, I certainly don't have that much cash on me, so credit." Keith pulled out his wallet and Pidge pushed the machine towards him. He dreadfully paid the large bill, before slipping his wallet back into the pocket. Keith looked at the pile of bouquets wide-eyed. "Could I get some help with that? I don't think I can carry that many flowers at once."

"Lance, go help him," Pidge ordered, Lance shooting her a glare. "My arms are too short. Can't really hold much." 

Lance sighed, before whispering to Pidge, "I hate you." 

"No you don't," Pidge declared with a grin. 

Lance scoffed and grabbed three of the bouquets, Keith taking the other three. Keith led LAnce into the parking lot, and to his car. At the sight of Keith's car, Lance's jaw dropped. 

"That's your car?" Keith's car looked quite old, but in a cool way, not like Marissa. It looked straight out of a 70s movie. It was black and silver, and the style of it matched Keith's perfectly. Lance was gaping. 

"Yeah," Keith seemed confused at Lance's reaction. "Why're you so shocked?" 

"Because that's a fucking awesome car!" Lance near yelled. 

"I guess it's cool, never really thought much of it," Keith said, opening a door to the back seat, placing the flowers inside. 

"Wha-" Lance was still in shock. "What kind of car is it?" 

"Uh, '75 Chevy Chevelle," Keith answered, sounding unsure. "I think. I dunno, all I know is my dad gave it to me forever ago." 

Lance, who was still slightly in shock, handed the remaining bouquets to Keith, who placed them into the car. Keith waved a goodbye to Lance, then proceeded to get into his car and drive away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, my friend V came up with the name for the shop, and the fact that Matt made Shiro name it that. Thank her for that.


	3. Three

The bell jingled as the duo walked into the bakery. The familiar scent of freshly-baked pastry put Lance at ease as he breathed it in. It reminded him of home when he would try and steal food from the counter as his mom was cooking. Garret's Family Bakery had always given him a homey feeling. 

"Hey, Hunk!" Pidge called out as a familiar face smiled from behind the counter. Hunk had been a friend of both Lance and Pidge's ever since they began working at the flower shop. His family's shared love of baking had driven them to open their own bakery, and not Hunk works there alongside his parents and sister. 

"Hey guys," Hunk greater happily; he really was just a ray of sunshine. "What'll it be today?" 

"What do you have?" Pidge asked. 

"Well, we've got a fresh strawberry rhubarb pie," Hunk answered, pointing to a still-steaming pie on top of the counter. "Straight from the oven." 

Pidge's eyes widened at the sight of the pie. "Yeah, I'll definitely take a slice of that." 

Hunk laughed. "Of course," he turned to Lance, "And for you, today, Lance?" 

"Uh, I dunno," Lance spotted a chocolate brown pudding-looking dessert. "That looks good." 

"Ah, yes, my famed chocolate orange pudding." Hunk answered. "It's one of my favourites." 

He proceeded to cut Pidge a slice of pie and pull a pudding out from the case for Lance. 

"How much?" Pidge asked. 

"$5.65," Hunk answered. 

"I got it," Lance volunteered, pulling out his wallet and placing a five dollar bill and a few coins in Hunk's hand. 

"What's put you in such a good mood?" Hunk asked. 

"Nothing," Lance said. 

"Lance, you're in such a good mood you're actually paying for your own food," Hunk said, "It's gotta be something." 

"Lance has a crush," Pidge said frankly, glancing over at Lance briefly. Although most times frankly was the only way she spoke. "Again." 

Hunk groaned, tilting his head back. "Lance? Again? What's their name this time?" 

Lance mumbled. 

"What?" Hunk questioned. 

"Keith, okay? His name is Keith!" Lance exclaimed quickly. 

Hunk deadpanned. "You couldn't have picked a crush with a cooler name?"

"Exactly what I said!" Pidge explained, beginning to walk back towards a chair. Lance walked over and sat beside her. 

"Quit making fun of me," Lance ordered, not being completely serious. His expression switched from slightly sarcastic to sad. "It's just s little crush anyways, I'm probably not gonna see him again." Lance was actually almost sure He wouldn't see Keith again. He came into the shop to buy flowers, and that was it. Keith could be in a relationship for all Lance knew. He could be straight, he didn't know. He really didn't know all that much about Keith. He was just another one of Lance's stupid crushes that would always end up running away. Lance kind of had a tendency to jump the gun at times.

"You do have his number, though," Pidge smirked. "You could call him."

"Or text!" Hunk chimed in. 

"You're not actually suggesting I call him?" Lance asked, shocked at what his friends were suggesting. He couldn't really call Keith, could he? He couldn't do that, he'd fumble on words and he wouldn't be able to form sentences and then Keith would say something and Lance wouldn't be able to speak and Keith would probably just reject him and then- 

"What's the worst that could happen?" Hunk said cheerily. 

"He could pick up," Lance stated. 

Pidge simply laughed at this. "You'll be fine. Just grow a pair and call him."

"How?"

"Type his number into your phone and press the call button," Pidge said sarcastically. 

"Fuck you." Lance said with a blank expression. 

"Right back atcha." She kept her sarcastic tone, before taking a bite of her pie triumphantly. 

__________________

When Lance got home that day, he just shut the door and leaned back onto it, sinking down to the ground. All he could think about was stupid Keith and his stupid car and his stupid mullet and his stupid eyes, that weren't really stupid at all. Nothing about him was, really. Actually, Lance didn't know much about Keith's intelligence level. He liked to imagine Keith was smart, but he didn't really know. And, here comes that thought again, he probably wouldn't see Keith again.

Lance sighed, pulling himself up off of the ground. His stomach growled and he decided to make himself some food. After staring at his cupboard for a few minutes, he decided on Kraft Mac 'n' Cheese (Hunk had once told he and Pidge that it was called Kraft Dinner in Canada, and Pidge had proceeded to call Canadians 'a bunch of Kraft Sinners'). He made it as instructed on the box. Lance put some in a bowl and went into his living room and turned on the TV. He scrolled through Netflix for a good ten minutes before settling on Friends. He needed a laugh, and the misadventures of Phoebe, Chandler, Joey, Monica, Rachel, and Ross seemed like the way to go.

Lance laughed (a little too much) at nearly every joke Chandler made until he reached the bottom of his bowl of mac 'n' cheese. He turned off the TV and set his empty bowl on the coffee table in front of him. He sighed, leaning back onto his couch, staring up at the ceiling. Even after watching TV an eating, all that was on his mind was Keith. He needed to do something to get him out of his head, but he couldn't for the life of him think of what.

Lance glanced at the clock. 6:37. It was too early to go to sleep, but right now, that was all Lance wanted to do. He sighed, pulling himself off the couch. He went into his bedroom and changed into his pajamas, which considted of a dark blue t-shirt and black shorts. He threw himself onto the bed and pulled the unmade covers onto him. His eyes drifted closed as his body drifted slowly to sleep.

Lance's eyes shot open. He heard a knocking. Not his door, no. His window. He lazily dragged himself out of bed, not thinking much of the situation. He was simply too tired. He pulled back the curtains. Lance looked out the window to see a familiar pair of violet eyes staring at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks to my friend V for the help. She helped me with a lot of ideas, so you'll probably see me thanking her a lot.
> 
> And, yeah, I know, the chapter's kinda short but it's mostly filler. 
> 
> -andy


	4. Four

"Keith?!" Lance was in disbelief. How did Keith know where he lived? How did he get here? How did he get up onto the windowsill? 

"Mind letting me in?" Keith's muffled voice said from outside the window. Lance got out of bed. He glanced at the clock. 11:42. He walked over and unlocked and pushed open his window, Keith climbing inside and standing in front of him. Despite the late hour, Keith didn't look tired. He looked exhilarated if anything. "Heh, thanks." 

"Pardon my French, but what the fuck are you doing here?" Lance asked, somehow managing to keep his cool, and thank the heavens he was able to do so. Especially in this tired state. 

"I need help," Keith stated simply. 

"So you show up at my bedroom window, unannounced when I never even gave you my address?" Lance asked sarcastically. 

"Yes…" Keith exaggerated the 'e'. 

"We've literally met twice, and I'm letting you into my house!" Lance exclaimed loudly. "You could be a serial killer for all I know!" 

"I'm not a serial killer." proclaimed Keith. 

"Well, how am I supposed to know that?" Lance was almost yelling. His neighbours are going to hate him for yelling this late, but it was for good reason. "How'd you even get my address? And how'd you get up to my window?" 

"Well, to answer your first question: I know a guy who knows another guy who knows another guy who knows a girl who knows a guy who knows Matt who, for obvious reasons, knows shit." Keith took a breath. 

"Shit?" Lance questioned. 

"Shiro, sorry." Keith let out a small laugh. "Autocorrect." 

"This is a verbal conversation," Lance pointed out. 

"And to answer your second question, I climbed up the fire escape," Keith said, completely disregarding what Lance had said. 

Lance sighed, rubbing his eyes. He was glad to see Keith again, but at the same time, he was confused and dumbfounded at Keith's actions. Why does he always have to crush on the crazy ones? "What was it you needed help with, anyway?" 

"Deliveries." Keith's eyes wandered off, before looking Lance straight in the eye after a moment. "For the flowers you sold me." 

"Can't we do that in the morning?" Lance asked, dragging a hand across his eyes. "I'm tired." 

"No, we can't do this in the morning," Keith said, a stern tone beginning to form in his voice. "I need help, and you're the only person that I could think of to help me." 

"Yeah, sure." Lance took a step back. He put on a sarcastic tone. "You need help, so you ask the guy who sold you two hundred dollars worth of flowers that you've only spoken two twice before. You make complete and total sense, Keith!" 

"Listen, there's something in this for you, too," This perked Lance's interest. "Let's just say you'll also be sending someone a certain message in the language of flower." 

Lance's mind began running wild. Who could he give those flowers to? Who on his list of hatred would be that one special victim?

"I'm in," Lance said affirmatively. "I am one hundred percent in." 

"Great, now grab some shit and let's go." Keith clasped his hands together. "Bring a sweater." 

Lance did as he was asked and packed a duffel bag filled with various items (a phone charger, a water bottle, and a change of clothes. You never know what you're gonna need). Lance led Keith out to the side of the building (not using the fire escape like Keith had, using the elevator "like normal people"), where Lance saw Keith's car. Keith opened the trunk for Lance to put his bag in. Inside the trunk, Keith had two of the bouquets, three cans of red spray paint, a brown paper bag, as well as a duffel bag of his own. Lance didn't really wanna know what was in the bags. He just simply paced his bag next to Keith's and took his place in shotgun next to Keith. Keith started the ignition. The sounds of punk rock emanated from the speakers. 

"Depeche Mode? Really?" Lance questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

"What's wrong with it?" Keith asked, pulling on his seatbelt. 

Lance scoffed. "It's like 80's emo trash, that's what's wrong." 

"How dare you!" Keith dramatically flailed his arms up. "Depeche Mode is art! Besides, what do you listen to? Fuckin' Britney Spears or some shit?" 

Lance stayed silent for a second, feeling Keith's gaze. "And Beyoncé." Lance felt a grin begin to form on his face. "Oh, and who could forget the lovely Lady Gaga." 

"You are so fucking weird," Keith began to smile, too. 

"I know," Lance said, his grin growing wider. 

Keith drove off, a slight grin still present on his face, hanging a right as he exited the parking lot. 

"Now, where are we going?" Lance asked, turning to Keith who was bopping to the music. 

"Iverson."  
"What?"  
"Iverson."  
"Repeating it doesn't make it any clearer." 

Keith sighed. "He was this dickwad teacher I had back in eleventh grade." Lance looked at Keith with concern and curiosity. "Long story short, I may or may not be the reason one of his eyes is permanently closed." Keith laughed slightly. "Okay, I definitely am the reason for that." He paused for a moment, the smile on his face growing slightly wider. "I got expelled."

Lance looked at Keith. He smiled. Keith looked almost proud of what he was telling Lance. 

"Nice," was the thing Lance decided to say at that moment. Keith shot him a weird look out of the corner of his eye. "Really, he was probably a super dickwad if you did that. What did you do, exactly?" 

"I, uh," Keith hesitated. "I stabbed him in the eye with a pen." He let out a small laugh. "Oh, and I started the 'Iverson Can Suck My Ass' club."

Lance burst out laughing, leaning forward in his seat. "That's great, really. That's the greatest thing I've heard in a while." 

Keith and Lance exchanged glances, both with smiles on their faces because of Keith's story. 

They kept driving for a while before they reached a small house a few houses down a small road. 

"Here we are," Keith pulled to the side of the road and parked the car. "Let's go." 

Keith and Lance walked out to the trunk. Keith took out one of the bouquets, a can of spray paint, and a small piece of paper from the duffel bag. 

"What's on the paper?" Lance asked, pointing to it. 

Keith handed the note to Lance. "Here. Read it." 

'Professor Iverson, 

Thank you for teaching me the importance of a black Inkjoy ballpoint pen.

~k'

Lance hummed before handing the note back to Keith. 

"Won't he know it's you?" He asked. 

"That's the point," Keith said with a smirk. 

Keith led Lance to the side of the house where there was a small window near the bottom of the house. He pried it open and gestured for Lance to step closer. Keith instructed Lance to help him get inside, and then help him get back out once he was done. 

Lance watched as Keith walked through the living room of the house, before stopping at the TV. Keith smirked as he pulled the lid off of the spray paint. He sprayed a large red 'k' across the flatscreen and set the flowers and note down underneath the TV. Keith heard the slam of a door and turned swiftly to see lights turning on down the hall. Iverson had woken up. 

"Keith, run!" Lance exclaimed from outside. 

And so Keith ran. He bolted across the room to the window where Lance was waiting. Keith jumped up without warning, grabbing onto Lance. Lance quickly steadied himself and pulled Keith out of the window. The two boys stood up and ran to the car. Keith turned as he heard a door slam. Iverson was standing outside the house, yelling. 

Lance grabbed Keith by the arm and ran to the car. Lance got into the driver's seat and started up the car. Lance pulled on his seat belt, Keith completely disregarding his. 

"Floor it!" Keith yelled, looking back at Iverson, who was running after them. 

Lance slammed the gas, sending the car going faster than either of them thought it could, judging by their expressions. Lance kept the car going fast until the sound of Iverson's shouting could no longer be heard. 

"Well," Keith started, out of breath. "That went better than expected." 

"That was better than you thought it would be?" Lance questioned. 

"Just be thankful he didn't pull out his shotgun," Keith remarked, letting out a breath. 

The taller boy's eyes widened. "Wait, you knew he had a shotgun, and you vandalized his TV?" Keith nodded. "Keith, you are such an idiot." 

"Hey, you agreed to come with me," Keith smirked. "And you're the one driving." 

"Okay, whatever," Lance shrugged slightly. "Where to next?" 

"My dad's house."


	5. Five

Lance tried to not show his shock, but it wasn't really working. His jaw dropped and his eyes went wide, staring right at Keith and not the road. 

"Hey, dipshit, stare at the road, not me," Keith said. "You're gonna drive into a fucking lamppost or something." 

Lance sighed and looked back at the road. "Could you please explain why we're giving the fuck you flowers to your dad?" 

Keith sighed, realizing he would have to explain. "Well, my mom left shortly after I was born. I got told it was some secret military thing, but I wasn't sure I believed it." Keith looked over at Lance briefly. Lance could tell Keith didn't want to explain, but he was going to anyways. "My dad abandoned me not too long after. Great parenting!" Keith made a sarcastic comment to try and lighten the mood. "I got out into the foster care system. I know what you're gonna say, some people like being in foster care. I'm sure that some people would like going to fourteen foster homes in thirteen years." Keith sighed once more. "I hated it. I wanted to have a family. I wanted my mom and my dad, I wanted a brother or a sister, or both. I wanted a dog!" Keith rubbed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. "What about your family?" 

"My family?" Lance was shocked. Nobody had ever asked him about his family before; not Pidge, not Hunk. He looked over at Keith, who then nodded. "Well, there's my mom and dad. My mom is probably the nicest person ever. She'll whoop your ass if you do anything wrong, though. I've got two brothers: Marco and Luis. And I've got sister named Veronica." Lance smiled and laughed slightly. "I'm telling you, if it weren't for Veronica, Marco and I would've killed each other. Luis would probably be the one sitting in the background eating popcorn." Lance laughed once more. "But that's just the kind of kid Luis is. I love my family so much, Keith. I really do." Lance smiled softly at Keith 

Keith smiled, too. "Your family sound nice." Lance laughed awkwardly for a second. "Well. we've got six more places to go, so let's cut the chick flick moments."

"Six?" Lance questioned. "But we only have five bouquets left." 

"I know." Keith smirked. "Oh, and if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to drive. After all, it's my fucking car." 

"Oh, alright." Lance drove for a few more meters and then pulled the car to the side of the road. "But as long as I can pick the music." 

Keith scoffed. "You wish." 

Lance fake laughed. "Bite me, Kogane." 

The two began to get out of the car and walk around to opposite sides. 

"Maybe later, McClain," Keith smirked, getting into the driver's seat. 

Lance silently got into the passenger seat, too flustered to muster a comeback. It stayed silent (aside from the Depeche Mode songs that were playing, of course) like that for most of the ride, until Keith pulled up to an apartment building. 

"Here we are," Keith said, a slight look of sorrow beginning to form in his eyes. "Hell, sweet Hell." 

"Are you doing the same thing you did for Iverson or..?" Lance asked, his voice trailing off at the end. 

"For the most part." Keith undid his seatbelt and got out of the car without another word. Lance quickly followed him to the trunk of the car. 

"What're we doing now?" Lance watched as Keith pulled out a bouquet, a can of spray paint, and a note just like last time. However, this time, the note wasn't all he pulled out of the bag. A photo and a small box also rested in Keith's hands. A worried look cascaded across Lance's face. "What's in the box?" 

"You'll see." Keith slipped the lighter, note, and small box into his pocket, handing the bouquet to Lance. 

Keith led Lance to the side of the building where the fire escape was. Ah, yes, the great fire escape; the same way Keith got up to Lance's window. Keith jumped up and pulled down the ladder, quickly walking up it and getting to the first platform like it was nothing. Lance gave him a puzzled glance as he gestured for Lance to follow him. 

"It's safe, trust me." Keith reached out a hand. "Once you get to the top, I'll pull you up." Lance hesitated, he had a somewhat major fear of heights. "Lance, just trust me." 

Hesitantly, Lance listened to Keith and grabbed onto the cold, metal ladder. He pulled himself up onto the first step, getting nervous that he would fall, even though he was only a few inches off the ground. Keith could see that Lance was scared.

"Lance," Keith called. Lance looked up, still fearful. "You're fine. His apartment's only two floors up, it's not that high. You'll be fine." 

Lance looked forward, taking a deep breath. He could do it, he thought to himself. Keith was waiting for him at the top, he could do it. He took a second step. A third. A fourth. A fifth. By the sixth, he could reach Keith's outstretched hand. He reached out his right hand and grabbed onto Keith's. Lance squeezed Keith's hand as he pulled himself up the last few steps and onto the platform. 

"That, uh, that was great." Keith smiled at a still-scared Lance. "We've got three more ladders to go up and then we're there."

Lance took a breath. "I can probably manage. You'll still help me though, right?" 

"Of course." Keith smiled at Lance once more. 

Keith climbed up the second ladder and onto the platform where he turned and looked down at Lance. He reached out an arm. "Ready?" 

"Ready." Lance affirmed, letting out his breath which he wasn't aware he was holding. Lance reluctantly took the first step. He looked up at Keith for reassurance, who simply nodded. Lance nodded back and, with that, he took a second step. He continued slowly up the ladder until he reached the sixth step where he could, yet again, reach Keith's hand. He grasped onto it and Keith began to pull Lance up the next few steps. They continued this for the next ladder. Keith pulled Lance up the last ladder. The two stood, face-to-face, hands still joined on the final platform next to the window of Keith's dad's apartment. Neither of them moved nor spoke, they just stood there, staring into each other's eyes. Lance knew that if Pidge was there she'd probably be shouting, "GAAAAYY!", and Lance was thankful that she wasn't.

Keith let go of Lance's hand and took a step back. The blush on Lance's face began to recede in the absence of Keith in front of him. 

"So, uh," Keith began, although he was at a slight loss for words. "Let's go." 

Lance, flustered and scared, nodded. "Oh, okay." 

Keith pulled open the (thankfully) unlocked window and climbed inside the apartment, gesturing for Lance to follow him. Inside, it was a rather nice apartment. The walls were painted white and the floors were a light sand hardwood. The living room that the window led into was made up of a dark leather couch, a corduroy chair and a wooden TV stand that reminded Lance of the one Joey made in Friends.

"Now, let's get down to business." Keith said. 

Lance mumbled something. 

"What was that?" Keith asked inquisitively. 

"I said, uh," Lance hesitated. "To defeat the Huns." 

"To defeat..?" Keith looked confused for a second, before making a connection in his head. "Lance, did you just make a fucking _Mulan_ reference?

"Maybe..." A slight blush crossed Lance's face. 

"Seriously, let's actually get to work. Keith gestured toward the pile of objects he had dropped on the ground. "Take the flowers, note, and picture and put them over by that door." Keith pointed towards a white wooden door across from where the two were standing. Lance assumed it was the bedroom. "I'll take care of the box."

Lance grabbed the objects Keith mentioned from the ground and rushed over to the door, being as quiet as he possibly could. He knew he probably shouldn't read the note, but he wanted to. Yes, Keith _did_ let him read the note to Iverson, but this was different, it was his dad. His father, the father that left him, the father that had clearly caused a lot of problems for Keith. Lance wanted to read it. He really wanted to read it.

Lance read the note.

_Dear Dad,_

_Remember me? I barely remember you._

_~k_

Lance smiled slightly at the note. It was short and simple, unlike Keith (well, Keith is short, but he's far from simple). Lance placed the flowers and note on the ground in front of the door. He then took notice of the photo. It was a photo of Keith. His face wasn't shown, but he could still tell it was Keith. He was sitting on a rooftop. He wore a grey hoodie and that same leather jacket he was wearing now, and back when they had first met. The hood was up but his black hair was being blown towards the left, and it could be seen blowing outside of the hood. Lance flipped the picture over. There was a small lowercase k written in black ink in the bottom right corner, just like the one he signed the letter with.

Lance placed the picture down underneath the note and turned around to see where Keith was. He spotted him standing in front of one of the tables next to the couch, staring at something. Lance began to walk over to Keith, curious to see what Keith was so interested in.

"Whatcha looking at there?" Lance asked as he arrived next to Keith, looking at Keith rather than what he was staring at. He made sure to keep his voice down, not wanting to wake anyone up.

"That," Keith pointed to a picture frame propped up on the table, whispering as well. The photo was of a man and a woman, not too much older than being in their mid-twenties. The man looked kind of like Keith. They had the same colour hair, but not much was similar to him other than that. Lance assumed this man was Keith's father, simply because _who else could it be?_ The woman, however, was what really caught Lance's eye. She was significantly taller than the man (Lance could tell he got his height genes from his dad). She had dark purple and pink coloured hair and the same fierce violet eyes as Keith. She wore the soft smirk Lance had seen on Keith earlier that night, and he saw that same blazing look in her eyes. She wore a leather jacket atop a maroon-coloured unbuttoned flannel shirt, as well as a... Depeche Mode t-shirt. Yes, this was _definitley_ Keith's mom. "It's my parents." Lance looked back up at Keith. "They look so... happy. I've never seen them together in a photo, not like this."

"Wow," Lance smiled, sighing slightly. "Is that a Depeche Mode shirt?"

"Yeah," Keith let out a small laugh. 

"That really is your mom." Lance looked over at Keith. The initial shock had faded from his face, although there was still a slight look of surprise, and he wore a soft smile. 

Keith and Lance's moment was ruined when he heard a door opening. Not the bedroom door, no. _The front door._

Someone, probably Keith's dad, was returning home.

Keith and Lance exchanged panicked glances. They both seemed to be thinking the same thing: _shit._ Keith quickly shuffled and through his pockets and threw the box out onto the ground and ran, grabbing Lance by the wrist and pulling him with him. Keith unlatched the same window they had came in through with his free hand and threw it open. He let go of Lance before hopping out onto the platform. He turned, holding his hand out for Lance. The taller boy reached out for the gloved hand and pulled himself out of the window.

This time around, Lance didn't seem to care about the height. He just followed Keith as he wanted to avoid getting caught. He practically flew down the two storeys with Keith just in front of him. They ran to Keith's car and sped off, Lance barely having enough time to put on his seatbelt.

This time, it wasn't Depeche Mode, but rather My Chemical Romance. _Even more emo,_ Lance had thought.

"Where to next?" Lance asked, still feeling the rush from what had just happened. He couldn't lie, he loved it. He loved the feeling of breaking the rules and being on the edge. He loved feeling this free-spirited, and he loved doing that with Keith. 

"No clue." Keith didn't stutter, as Lance would've expected with a statement like this. Lance gave Keith a weird look. "Oh, right. I should explain."

"Yeah," Lance scoffed. "No shit, Sherlock." 

"Fuck you, Watson." Keith smirked, glancing at Lance from the corner of his eye. "It's your choice. We can fuck up whoever's place you want next."

Lance's mind started spinning with names and ideas. 

"Have anyone in mind?"

"Got it." Lance said as he came to a conclusion. "Lotor."


End file.
